D is for Diamond
by Jelsemium
Summary: I wanted to write a diamond heist for the 2006 Summer Alphabet Fiction Challenge at Numbers dot org. This didn't turn out as serious as I expected it to, but it's based on a true story.
1. Chapter 1

D is for Diamond

Part 1 of 2

Disclaimers: Do not own the characters. I am not making a profit. I am barely making sense.

o.0

A slender, swarthy man descended the stairs outside the Los Angeles Federal Courthouse oozing smugness. He paused on the sidewalk to slide his sunglasses over his dark eyes and survey the street. He pointedly ignored the people coming out of the courthouse.

However, he didn't seem especially startled when one of the people he was ignoring came up behind him.

"You think you're pretty cute, don't you, Chavez?" the dark-haired, suited man snarled.

The swarthy man turned around with an exaggerated expression of surprise on what could be seen on his face. "Why, Agent Eppes, I didn't see you there." He smirked. "Must be because you look so much shorter without a leg to stand on!"

Eppes took a step closer and reached out. "You little…"

"Don Eppes!" shrieked a feminine voice. "Leave him alone… NOW!" A red-faced blonde barreled out of the halls of justice, sparks flying from her eye and from a glittering ring on her finger.

Don dropped his hand and backed away from the smirking Chavez. He turned just in time to take the palm of the blonde's hand across his face.

Chavez laughed uproariously as Eppes staggered back a step and put his hand up to his face. "Nadine!" he said.

"Haven't you mucked things up enough?" shrieked Nadine. "You spoiled my airtight case with your bumbling; now you intend to get us sued for harassment?" She swung her hand again, but Eppes caught her wrist.

"If you spent as much time preparing your case as you do fixing your face, then maybe scumbags like him…" Eppes thrust a finger towards Chavez. "Wouldn't walk free!"

Nadine jerked her hand free. "You don't like my face?" she shrieked. "Well, I don't like yours, either. Or your crummy tin-plated cubic zirconium ring!" she yanked her sparkling ring off her left hand and flung it at Eppes.

It bounced off his tie, but Eppes caught it on the fly. "Nadine," he said in exasperation.

"That's Counselor Hodges, to you, buster!"

"Oh, yeah?" Eppes shouted back. "Well, you _need_ counseling!" Tucking the ring into his breast pocket, he turned on his heel and bumped into the sniggering Chavez.

"Watch it, Eppes, or I'll file an assault charge against you," Chavez said.

"You shut it," Eppes snarled.

Agent Eppes stormed off and Chavez turned towards Nadine Hodges.

"Oh, shut it," she snapped. She also turned on her heel and marched back into the courthouse.

A smiling Chavez shook his head and strolled away. He waited until he turned the corner before pausing to examine the sparkling ring in his hand. "You're mistaken, Counselor," he muttered to himself. "This is not cubic zirconium."

He continued down the street until he spotted a likely looking bar and disappeared into the cool depths. He allowed the waitress to show him to a back table. He slid off his tie and stuffed into an inside pocket before sitting down. He genuinely hated the things. _That_ much at least was not acting.

He ordered a beer, but company arrived before his drink did.

"Dude!" a cheerful young blond man slid into the booth.

Chavez' eyes narrowed dangerously.

A dark haired man hovered at Chavez' elbow, apparently ready for trouble.

"What do you want?" Chavez growled.

"You lifted that Fed's ring like you were a pro penny weighter," the blond burbled. "Nicely done."

Chavez stiffened when he heard the slang term for a shoplifter who specialized in stealing from jewelry store counters. "What's it to you?" he asked.

"Well, it's worth twenty-five thousand dollars to you," the second man said casually.

Chavez shifted his weight and looked up at the other man. "Sit down," Chavez said in a low, gravelly tone. "I hate looking up at people."

The second man smirked and sat down. "Name's Jack," he said. "Jack Daniels." Before Chavez could react to that claim, "Jack" nodded at his companion. "This is my boss-man, Captain Morgan."

Chavez let out a woof of laughter.

"Captain Morgan" shrugged. "We didn't make up the names, Dude," he said. He nodded. "We came by them honestly."

Chavez raised an eyebrow and took a sip from his beer. "Honestly? You mean your mother named you 'Captain'?"

Captain Morgan shook his head. "Nah, the community tagged us with these monikers," he explained.

"Which community is that?" Chavez asked. He looked the two over carefully.

Morgan was older that he'd seemed at first glance. He was deeply tanned and the blond hair had been brown, before excess sun and salt water had bleached out the tips. His skin wasn't evenly brown; it had the blotches and wrinkles that came from many hours outside without sun block.

The other man had been born with dark skin and hair, but constant exposure to the elements had left its mark on him also.

"The surfing community?" Chavez hazarded before the other two had a chance to answer. He had these two pegged as overage surfers, now.

"Yep," Morgan said. "But we're not here to propose a surf board company to you."

"Not that we couldn't make a go of that," Jack added. "Now that Clark Foam has stopped making surfboard cores, the market is wide open."

"We just need a stake," Morgan said. "Then we can start our own company."

Chavez was feeling a little dizzy by this point. "Start making sense or get the hell out of my booth," he said.

Morgan held his hands up in a placating manner. "All right, all right, Dude," he said. "We have a job lined up. We can make two hundred grand, easy. All we need from you is to use your skills to nick a key from a guy for a few minutes."

"And you'll pay me twenty-five thousand dollars for this?" Chavez asked skeptically.

"Yeah, sure," Morgan said genially.

"And you'll trust some stranger you just met? How do you know I'm not a cop?"

Morgan and Jack laughed. "Man, we saw how you handled that fed!" Morgan hooted.

Chavez gave Morgan a dirty look. Jack took the more direct route and kicked his partner under the table.

"Sorry," Morgan said.

"You just beat some rap," Jack said. "And that Fed was ready to chew nails. We know you're all right."

"What were you busted for, anyway?" Morgan asked.

Chavez glowered.

Morgan held his hands up. "Never mind, forget I asked. Whatever, I assume you can use some extra money, right?"

The waitress came by before Chavez could answer. The two surfers ordered burgers and fries. Jack asked for a beer to wash his meal down with. Morgan went for a milkshake.

The other two men looked at him in surprise.

Morgan shrugged. "Obviously don't need any more today," was his explanation.

Chavez sighed, seeing his chance of meeting up with the gun runner fade, at least for the time being. He ordered a bowl of chili to go with his beer. It was neater; plus he could discard his spoon faster than he could discard a burger.

"So, what's this big score?" he asked resignedly.

"We're gonna kype the Jestana diamond," Morgan said casually, looking around the room with apparent boredom.

Chavez was glad that their food hadn't arrived, or he might have choked.

"You're going to waltz into the LA Gemological Institute and walk off with the biggest pink diamond in the western hemisphere?"

"Basically, yah," Jack said cheerfully. "Oh, yeah, and we're going to get the Wildfyre opal and the… what's that black sapphire, again?" He looked at Morgan.

"The Nocturne," Morgan said, nodding. "And the Marchand Emerald," he added, with a few more bobs of his head.

"That haul will be in the millions," Chavez hissed.

"Yup, yup," Morgan said. "At least one hundred million for the Jestana alone."

"And my take would only be twenty-five grand?" Chavez demanded.

Morgan actually rolled his eyes. "Dude, it's not like we can, y'know, _sell_ the things!" he muttered. "Everybody who's anybody would recognize them immediately!"

Chavez frowned.

"We're gonna ransom'em," Jack explained. "We figure the museum will only be able to cough up a max of a hundred K for their goodies, so your take is one fourth of the ransom."

"If we can get more, your take'll go up," Morgan added.

"How do you expect to pull it off?" Chavez wanted to know.

"Meet us at the museum tomorrow and we'll show you," Morgan said. "If you don't like the set up, then you can walk."

"Yeah, we'll even pay for your lunch today, and, like, tomorrow we'll treat you to the absolute best cinnamon rolls in all of California," Jack added.

Chavez leaned back and stared at them both incredulously.

Some of Chavez' disbelief most have soaked into their skulls, because Morgan put one hand over his heart and held the other up like he was being sworn in. "I'm tellin' ya, the cinnamon rolls at Zube's are, like, the best there ever was."

Chavez decided the quickest way to get rid of these two was to agree. "Okay, I'll be there tomorrow, but if you're wasting my time, you'll regret it."

"Dude!" Morgan chortled. "I don't regret nothin', never."

Their food arrived then. Jack and Morgan took their lunch and headed to a better lit table in front. Chavez sighed.

He fingered the collar of his jacket and muttered. "Did you hear that?"

"Affirmative," Special Agent Colby Granger responded in his ear. "We've also confirmed that that pair is, um, legit?" Colby's voice faded as if he'd turned away from the microphone. "Legit isn't the word I want here, is it?"

"It'll have to do, Granger," came Special Agent Megan Reeves' voice. "Edgerton, those two are suspects in several jewel robberies. Don't let the surfer-dude veneer fool you."

"So, they're not really surfers?" Special Agent Ian Edgerton relaxed a trifle and scanned the room. His gunrunner had not shown up. Maybe it was just as well, under the circumstances.

"Oh, no," Megan said. "They're both champion surfers. It's just that they steal diamonds on the side."

Edgerton sighed. "Only in California," he muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

D is for Diamond

Chapter 2 of 2

Disclaimers: Do not own the characters. I am not making a profit. I am barely making sense.

o.0

The Powers that Be decided that Edgerton should follow up on the purported jewel heist. So, the next morning, "Chavez" met up with "Morgan" and "Jack" to case the Gemological Institute.

The LA Gemological Institute had begun life as the LA Rock Hounds Club. The building housing the collection was a converted warehouse. And the collection had started out as the combined collections of the members. Those had consisted mostly of local rocks, minerals and fossils. The big draw had been the semi-precious and a meteorite the size of a baseball.

Over time, the Rock Hounds Club had expanded and evolved and had eventually been taken over by the city of Los Angeles. The city had renovated the warehouse, but had never truly invested in the building, preferring to spend its funds on upgrading the collection.

Edgerton looked around feeling vaguely appalled. He had never been impressed with frou-frou, but all this glitter surely deserved a better setting. The place felt more like a prison than a museum.

"Him," Morgan said, pointing to one of the guards. "Can you get his keys out of his jacket?"

"Sure," Edgerton said.

His task was made easier when the guard hung his jacket up on a chair.

Edgerton mentally shook his head. Apparently these bozos didn't think that hundreds of millions in famous jewels warranted any special vigilance.

He wandered over to the desk, asked a few questions about the collection and drifted back to the others with the keys.

"Not very careful with these," Edgerton observed, disgruntled.

Morgan shrugged. "Why should he be? They're only the keys to the break room."

"What?" Edgerton's forehead wrinkled.

"Jack, keep an eye out, Chavez, come with me."

One at a time, they straggled down the short hall to the restrooms. Jack disappeared into the restroom. A few minutes later, he came out. "Clear," he said, and then he returned to the museum room.

Edgerton followed Morgan into the break room. The walls were lined with tables. Extension cords ran from various utensils… refrigerator, microwave, coffee pot, toaster and a floor fan, which wasn't turned on.

"What are we going to do here?" Edgerton asked. "Steal their lunches?"

Morgan grinned. He opened a closet, pulled out an extension cord. "I used to date a girl who worked here, man. I know where everything is."

He proceeded to unplug everything, and then… he plugged everything back in.

Edgerton frowned. The only difference that Edgerton could see was that there was now one more extension cord in the mix.

Morgan just grinned at his look of confusion. "C'mon," he said. "Leave the museum whenever you're ready, meet us back at Joe's tonight about eleven.

Edgerton trailed after the surfer, and watched as Morgan walked over to the table. Morgan knelt down, ostensibly to tie his shoe and slid the keys under the table.

Edgerton shook his head.

At 11:15 that night, Edgerton was waiting down the street from Joe's when Morgan and Jack pulled up in a fire engine red Escalade.

"You think nobody will notice that circus wagon?" Edgerton hissed.

Jack and Morgan laughed.

"And your point?" Jack asked. "You sayin' that a candy red Caddy screams 'I'm a burglar!'"

Edgerton had no answer to that.

They parked across the street from the back of the museum and double checked their equipment. They had glass cutters, suction cups, hammers and a rope ladder. Edgerton wasn't sure why they needed a ladder to break into a one storey building, but he expected he would learn soon enough.

"Okay, here's the plan," Morgan said to Edgerton. "Jack keeps watch. He's got a bum knee and can't climb. you and I will go in and get the goodies."

Morgan and Jack flipped out their phones and turned them on.

"What about finger prints and stuff?" Edgerton asked.

Morgan shrugged. "What about them?" he said. "We were in there this afternoon, just don't put any prints inside the case and what can they prove?"

Edgerton shrugged back. Somehow, this whole robbery felt distinctly unreal to him. He wondered why the two surfers thought they could pull it off.

Morgan and Edgerton strolled across the road. There was a 10-foot-high fence that had iron spikes on the top surrounding the museum. Morgan looped a length of rope over a crossbar, thus creating a foothold on either side of the wall. Neither man had any trouble scaling the wall.

The parking lot was well-lit, but empty. There weren't any guards in sight. Edgerton shook his head again and followed Morgan to a wall that had a few small windows set high up.

"Give me a boost," Morgan said. He stopped under one of the windows.

"How are you going to get the window open?" Edgerton asked.

"It's already open," Morgan said. "Jack opened it earlier."

"What if somebody locked it?"

Morgan shrugged. "Jack opened it two weeks ago, and it was still open yesterday. Don't know why they'd suddenly notice it."

Edgerton resisted the urge to sigh, cupped his hands and Morgan stepped into it. The surfer balanced himself against the wall and yanked at the window.

There was a faint 'brrpt' as the alarm started. Then the noise died abruptly, as did all the lights in the parking lot.

Morgan hooked the rope ladder into the windowsill, then clambered inside. Edgerton climbed in after him. Once he was inside, Edgerton shot Morgan an incredulous look.

"Circuit breaker," Morgan said happily. He pulled the ladder in the window and stuffed it into his backpack.

"You rearranged the cords in the break room to be on the same circuit as the alarm?" Edgerton blurted, suddenly understanding.

"Yep," Morgan said. "We've been scouting this place for weeks," he added. He turned on his flashlight and headed into the museum. "This building is so crappy that, really, it's a crime to keep these jewels here."

Edgerton was almost inclined to believe him.

Using glass cutters and hammers, the two easily liberated the Wildfyre opal, the Nocturne Black Sapphire and the Marchand Emerald from their glass cases.

"I can't believe this is so easy," Edgerton grunted as he popped a circle of cut glass into the Nocturne's case and lifted the emerald.

Morgan shrugged. "Remember, this building originally held a collection of interesting rocks and common fossils. Nothing that the average joe couldn't pick up during a picnic or a hike.

"But after they started getting diamonds and …" Edgerton held up the black sapphire.

Morgan shrugged. "That, my friend, is the power of bureaucracy. Why should they invest in better locks and alarms when the place had never been robbed before?" He smirked at Edgerton's incredulous expression. "It's that kind of 'why lock the barn when the horse has never been stolen' mentality that makes life so easy for the average burglar. C'mon."

Morgan carefully put the gems in jewelry boxes and packed the boxes in mailing envelopes, the kind with bubble wrap interiors. He stowed the envelopes in his backpack.

"This is the tricky one," Morgan said. He handed Edgerton a palm sized mailing envelope. "Here's what's gonna happen next. The Jestana has its own alarm, see?" he pointed inside the case.

Edgerton leaned forward, without touching, and could make out the faint lines of wires. However, they had been painted over and so blended in with the bottom of the case. He sighed. At least _some_ precautions had been taken here!

"Right, it's a bummer, but there's no help for it," Morgan said, misinterpreting Edgerton's sigh.

"We could skip this one," Edgerton pointed out.

Morgan flashed a grin at him that made the sniper expert think of Professor Eppes for some reason.

"It'll be easy," Morgan said. "I'll crack the glass. The alarm goes off. We have like three minutes before the cops arrive. That's plenty of time to grab the diamond, book out the front, hop into the car and take off." He paused. "Doin' the speed limit, of course. Wouldn't want to break no traffic laws."

Edgerton stared, but Morgan started setting up his tools, apparently unaware of the irony of his last statement.

"The cops might see the car," Edgerton pointed out.

"Yeah?" Morgan spread his hands out. "There're lots of cars, here, Dude. Ya think they'll particularly notice one car cruisin' along at the speed limit?"

Of course. Edgerton mentally kicked himself for not coming up with that on his own.

Morgan paused and squinted at Edgerton. "You can leave now, if you want," he said.

Edgerton shook his head.

Morgan beamed, looking more like a blonde, overage Charlie Eppes all the time. "I knew you were cool." He flipped open his cell phone and speed dialed. "Ready, Jack? Good," he said. He closed the phone. "Ready, Chavez?"

Edgerton nodded.

Morgan sucked in a lungful of air and let it trickle out of his nose slowly. Then he cut into the glass case holding the Jestana Diamond.

Edgerton let out the breath that he hadn't realized that he was holding.

Morgan looked up at him, bewilderment clear on his face. "Do you hear anything?"

Both paused and listened.

Silence.

Morgan reached into the case and pulled out the Jestana. "This is freakin' me out, man," he said. "Let's go."

They moved to the front door without wasting time, but did not run. They swung into the SUV and they were off.

"What the hell happened to the cops?" Morgan wondered. He craned his neck around, trying to see if the heat was descending upon them from any quarter.

Jack checked all the mirrors. "I still don't hear any alarms," he said.

"Maybe it's silent?" Morgan hazarded.

"No alarm went off," Agent Sinclair's voice spoke in Edgerton's ear. The first contact that he'd had with his backup team all night.

"Only in California," was Edgerton's only comment.

Epilogue:

Edgerton was back to trolling for his gun runner. He wound up sipping on a beer and watching pool players in yet another cheap dive in Hollywood. It appeared that the gun runner hadn't been as impressed by their little charade in front of the courthouse as the surfers had been.

He didn't look up when his contact slid into the booth.

"We got the jewels back, none the worse for wear." Don Eppes reported.

"Good," Edgerton said. "What about Morgan and Jack?"

"Out on bail," Eppes said. "Oh, and neither of them gave you up, in case you're interested."

Edgerton grinned. "Honor among thieves?" he asked.

"Either that or they forgot that you were there," Eppes said. "They were pretty stoned when we picked them up."

Edgerton shook his head. "Why didn't the alarm on the Jestana Diamond case go off?" he asked. He cocked his head curiously.

Eppes smiled tightly. "There were no batteries in it," he said.

"No… batteries?" Edgerton asked faintly. "That diamond is worth more than the whole building, even at today's prices, and they… didn't… put… a… battery …" his voice trailed off.

"No battery," Don reiterated with a shrug.

Edgerton shook his head. "Only in California."

Author's End Notes:

Author's Note: I wanted to do a good old fashioned Diamond Heist, so I actually did research both online and in libraries. This story is based on a true story of the time the world's largest sapphire plus other gems were stolen from American Museum of Natural History, New York.

The line about "Why should they invest in better locks and alarms when the place had never been robbed before?" was paraphrased from Bill Mason's book, "Confessions of a Master Jewel Thief ."

This story was based on an actual robbery. The target was American Museum of Natural History,

New York. The robbers didn't muck around with the alarm system. They hadn't needed to, the alarm system had been shut down to conserve energy. The robbers didn't open the window. The window was left open by the museum. (Granted, it was on the fifth floor, but still.) And the battery in the diamond's case was dead.

And the thieves were actually surfers.


End file.
